Tulips in Her Hand

Chapter Eight

Her hands grasped the barbed wire.

She kneeled in the mud, which stained her skirt. The window lapped at her cheeks like the ocean laps upon the shore. Words swirled around her mind like an ocean storm. Celina wasn't sure why she was here. She wasn't sure where Mariusz and Anka were, nor if she'd ever find them. All she knew was that she wanted to find her father, and find him soon.

Celina strained her neck to scan the concentration camp. A few people milled about, their gaunt figures coated with filth and sorrow. All were working, pushing around wheelbarrows or digging or anything else. Celina was reminded of the time she stood at the fence of the ghetto, fear pounding in her chest. Their paintings were remarkably similiar, albeit cloaked in a impenetrable blackness that not even white paint could seep through. She felt shivers down her spine. And that strange feeling in her gut.

This was it.

Her father was nowhere to be seen.

Celina's heart fell. She glanced around, searching for another area of barbed wire. Yet a vast majority of the camp was contained in a looming brick wall, topped with barbed wire. There would be no getting in, nor even looking in. What was she even thinking anyway? Mariusz was right. She was naive.

Clutching the journal in her hands, Celina lingered for a few minutes longer, ignoring the smell of death that infected the air. She was about to stand and leave, however, when a distant figure began making its way towards the fence. Celina froze, her eyes fixed on the figure behind the fence. It was ragged, it was filthy, it was hungry, and most of all it was scarred. Celina felt tears bubble in her eyes.

The figure came closer and closer, clad in a striped uniform with numbers stitched across his chest. She saw his laughing sapphire eyes, his whiskered cheeks that were haphazardly shaven. She saw his flaxen blonde hair, his skin weathered from gardening in the sun. She saw his fingers, grasping a wilted tulip. He stumbled through patches of grass and rocks, yet the closer he came, the smoother his stride.

"Look what the tulip man gave me today, Celina."

"What color is my painting?"

"You've decided to be a victim, I see, my darling."

"Guess who the tulip man helped today, Celina?"

"He helped me today."

His voice sang the song of thousands of sparrows. A sob escaped Celina's throat. She pressed her hands against the barbed wire, reaching them out towards her father. He was merely a few feet away. One step, two step. He reached out his calloused hands, tainted with blood. Yet they never met Celina's hands, for as soon as he appeared, the figure disappeared.

"Papa, come back!" she cried. "I'm not a victim! I'm not-" Her cries sliced through the air, reverberating throughout the entire wilderness. Celina fell to her knees, her emotions pouring out of her sobs all at once. Suddenly she felt arms wrap around hers, lifting her from the blackened earth.

"Shh, Celina. Come with me."

Celina glued her feet to the ground, refusing to leave. Her lip quivered, tears dripping down her cheeks. She was not leaving without her father. Mariusz had had enough, however, and carried her in his arms away from the fence. Away from the figure. Away from her only hope. Anka trailed behind, a look of concern flashing on her face.

"You looked like a crazy person," she said once they were far away from Mauthausen. Celina allowed one last sob to escaped her mouth as Mariusz set her upon the earth. She brushed away remnants of tears, glaring at Anka.

"Celina, what do you think you were doing back there?" Mariusz demanded. He hovered over Celina like a thick cloud.

"You took me away from him! I finally found my father, and you took me away from him." Celina paused, anger mounting with every word. How dare this man leave a tulip on her pillow? Does he think he can somehow replace her father? No, Celina fumed, no, only her father and the tulip man can give her a tulip. Celina yanked the flower out of her knapsack and tore each petal to shreds. She threw them off towards the hills, allowing each one to flutter to the ground.